Winter Frustrations
by Fyrefly12
Summary: Just a one off short story with my Grey Warden Fyrelynne Cousland, and her first Knight, Alistair. Enjoy! *M
1. Winter Frustrations

Something cold landed on her cheek, making Fyre stir from her dreams. she felt another little prickle of cold on her closed eyelid, and another on her lips. Gently easing her eyes open, she saw herself looking up into little droplets of heaven falling from the sky.

And then she realised, with a shiver, that it was snowing.

Fyre sat up, letting the blanket fall off her body. The four small tents were almost invisible in the blanket of snow that now covered the small valley. There was an outline of her body in the snow, and Fyre wondered how she had slept through the cold.

"I kept you protected."

Fyre looked up at the person who had answered her silent question. Surprisingly, Morrigan stared down at her. Either Alistair's stew had sent her into a delusional phase, or Morrigan had done a good deed.

She wasn't sure which was worse. Or more unnerving.

"Uh... thanks?"

Morrigan didn't look at her as she sent a small fire ball to the dead fire pit under the heavy cauldron. Fyre shivered again and reached for her armour. She hissed as her fingertips touched the ice cold metal plate. With a yawn, she sat back in time to see Alistair pull the flap of the tent and crawl out. His dirty blonde hair spiked up in all directions. She watched in mild amusement as he stepped into the snow, and then hoped around as the cold sunk in between his toes.

He jumped on one leg, making some kind of noise before he finally lost his balance, and fell.

Fyre giggled as snow puffed up around him. Morrigan looked up and then back down without so much as a twitch of the lips, but Fyre saw the glint in her amber eyes. Alistair got to his feet and shook his body in a way that reminded her of Hunter.

As soon as she thought his name, her Mabari jumped into view, welcoming Alistair to the new day. Fyre watched as he bent down and rubbed the dog behind his ears. His whole attention was on the dog and he had such a gentle, kind look on his face. He almost reminded her of Rory.

Alistair looked up from on his fringe and saw her staring. Fyre was about to look away when she saw something in his eyes. She saw something there that she hadn't seen in what felt like a long time.

Something moved behind him and Fyre shifted her gaze instinctively. And then she froze.

Blonde hair swept down his elegant neck, emphasising the dark markings that swirled down and over his perfectly toned chest. They swirled down and over every part of his rippling body making him looked like some kind perfect statue. The tattoos seemed to make masculinity radiate from him, and Fyre felt her mouth go dry.

The elf saw her ogling and gave her a wicked smile.

"Good morning," he purred in his delightful accented voice.

Fyre felt her cheeks begin to burn before turning and looking away. She coughed and stood up, grabbing her armour and trying to ignore the warmth that was spreading down her stomach and towards her-

"Fyre?"

Fyre turned her head so quickly, she startled the misty-eyed bard.

"Oh, good morning Leliana. You OK?"

Leliana frowned and looked behind her. She smiled knowingly as she saw Zevran watching Fyrelynne with a smouldering glare. She also saw the dangerous look in Alistair's eyes too, but she knew the Warden couldn't seen Alistair over Zevran's raw sexuality.

"I see."

"See? See what? What are you talking about woman?" demanded Fyre before turning and stomping over to the bushes just outside of their camp.

Leliana chuckled and let the Warden be.

Fyre mumbled incoherent words to herself as she took care of her business. She then dressed into her freezing armour as quickly as she could.

"Stupid men, and elves and bloody tattoos... damn them all to the..."

Her mumbling words didn't stop until she walked back into the now thriving camp. Wynne helped Morrigan prepare the meal in silence as Sten sat sharpening his sword next to Leliana, who was cleaning her twin daggers. Zevran(thankfully now fully armoured) was gently pulling the veins from a stack of leaves before adding them to a small pewter. Alistair was about twenty paces away from the camp, swinging his swords furiously. Hunter was dodging the attacks and barking furiously, urging Alistair on.

Fyre raised an eyebrow at the curious training. She shrugged it off as the smell of breakfast wafted her way. She stomped through the snow and into the circle of camp where it seemed a certain witch had melted away the snow. Curiously, the small flakes still falling decided to stay away from their particular spot.

"Did you have sweet dreams, dear Warden?"

Fyre grunted as she sat heavily on a log. She suppressed a cold shiver before looking up angrily at the elf.

"Yes. It was a lovely dream about an Archdemon eating my dead family."

Fyre instantly wanted to take back the words that had slipped so easily off her tongue. They all knew her story, but she had never felt anything like that.

They all looked up at her briefly before looking away awkwardly. Zevran raised his eyebrows and carried on stripping his leaves.

"Zev, I-"

She stopped herself, unsure of what to say. Part of her wanted to shout some more. Part of her wanted to shout some more, but she knew it was just because she was frustrated. With a quiet moan, she got to her feet, grabbed her sword that was by her bedroll and stomped over to Alistair.

Hunter stopped his practise and watched as Fyre walked right up to Alistair. He looked shocked as she stood in front of him in her battle stance.

"Come on. Show me what you've got."

Alistair gave her a confused smirk before lowering his body and raising his sword. "Bring i-"

His words were cut off as Fyre lunged at him. Their swords connected and Alistair threw her off, giving himself a chance to brace himself for her furious onslaught. Fyre twirled with her sword, and slashed at his stomach, but Alistair jumped back, avoiding the blow. She went for another killing blow but was stopped short as Alistair's speed had her ducking and swerving away from him.

She roared and charged at him, ducking his sword and catching his legs, making him stumble. Alistair looked at her with a confused curiosity as she charged him again.

Fyre couldn't control herself. She felt the need to attack him again and again. Her breathing was heavy and her blows were hard enough to kill. She felt sweat starting to trickle down her back and neck, but the sweat mixed with the cold created a friction that made her burn.

Alistair matched her and kept on the defensive. She knew he was waiting for her to tire from her furious attack, but she didn't stop coming. Every blow she made seemed to get harder and part of him was beginning to stir. He knew that his blood rage was coming. It always came to him in the heat of a battle. It's what gave him the strength to fight again and again.

But he couldn't get into a rage with Fyre. She was his leader.

Fyre feigned a high attack and Alistair moved to block. She took her chance, hitting him in the shoulder with her blade. He let out a cry and Fyre used her foot to sweep under his legs and knock him flat.

Alistair landed heavily and Fyre walked to stand over him, victorious.

She looked down at his face, but he was not wearing the awed expression she expected. Instead, his eyes were darker and completely focused. She saw the vein in his neck ticking as his blood raced. Fyre suddenly snapped out of her violent mindset at the look of blood lust on his face.

"Alis-"

There was a blow to her stomach from his boot and she stumbled backwards. Alistair got to his feet quickly and stood before her once again. This time he held himself dangerously. Fyre caught her breath as she took in the man before her. This man was no longer the blithering idiot that Alistair always tried to be.

No – this was a warrior. Strength oozed from him and Fyre felt her whole body come alive. She reacted to him so quickly that a wave of dizziness came over her.

Alistair smirked. His eyes sizzled with the same heat in her cheeks.

"You started this," he whispered, his voice deep and husky. "Now finish it."

Fyre smiled. _Yes, ser._

She let out a furious battle cry and raised her sword. Charging at him again, they clashed with such force that spark flew from their swords. Fyre pushed her sword down with his, and the momentum sent them both backwards.

Alistair raised his sword again and brought it down in an arc. Fyre raised hers in time to stop him crushing her. Using her knee, she jerked it upwards into his hard abs, making him catch his breath. She pulled away and gave him a smile that was filled with everything she was feeling. Heat. Anger. Passion. Frustration.

Never before was her skin so on fire. The armour on her body was crushing her and making her itch. His eyes bore into her own and the world around them seemed to melt away. Everything became focused on the small circle they were drawing around each other. They looked for weakness while examining every inch of each other. It wasn't as if she had never seen his body before, but now he stalked her like an animal and its prey.

Fyre stopped.

She was done with ring around the rosies.

Throwing her sword onto the ground, Fyre pulled at her armour. She took of the heavy breast plate and gauntlets before raising her arms in front of her body, fists balled. Alistair understood faster than she thought possible, ripping off his gauntlets and breast plate.

Fyre rolled her shoulders, feeling more comfortable in the plain cotton tunic she always wore. It was cooler. She could breathe.

Alistair started with a rookie move. He lunged at her for a hit square in the face. She moved easily and grabbed his arm, twisting it up. She tried to pin him, but he was bigger than her, overpowering her easily. He brought his own knee up and got her in the side. Fyre yelped and almost lost her balance.

She didn't have a chance to react as Alistair grabbed her from behind. For the split second she felt the heat from his body radiating through his tunic and it made her shiver. With a grunt, she brought her head back and caught him in the face. As he stumbled, she turned and kicked him in the chest. Alistair recovered and grabbed her foot, twisting her leg and pushing her back. She landed hard but twisted in time to avoid being pinned by him.

Getting to her feet, Fyre charged him with all she had. They blocked and twirled and lashed and kicked. It started to feel almost like a dance. Fyre felt herself move so easily, so in sync with him that she knew each move before he made it. She saw his muscles flex when he was about to lash out. She saw his eyes dart quick to the side he was aiming at before he did.

He flexed his arms to hit for her right side and she dodged it easily. Expecting him to see her move, she went for a blow to his face. It was an easy move to block, but Alistair wasn't quick enough. She felt her fist catch his jaw with a crunch.

Fyre gasped as he stumbled backwards.

"Alistair! I'm so..."

Her words trailed off as he moved his hand from his mouth. She saw she had split his lip. His eyes were shadowed by his hair, but she knew he was pissed. The way he straightened his body made her drop her stance.

"Alistair, I'm sorry, I didn't mean..."

"It's OK. We both got a bit carried away."

Fyre felt herself breathing heavily as Alistair drew the back of his hand over his bleeding lip. She swallowed back the lump in her throat as he turned and walked away from the camp. And her.

She turned and stopped dead at the eyes watching her.

Leliana had a look of utter astonishment on her face, as did Wynne and even Morrigan. Sten seemed to be deep in thought as he watched her. And Zevran looked... like he wanted to devour her. Fyre felt the back of her neck prickle. She was too hot. She was too wound up.

Leaving her armour and sword where they fell, Fyre turned and heading into the forest, in the direct opposite direction that Alistair had gone.

When she was out of sight, Fyre started to run. The cold breeze was burning her face and she felt her lungs burning, but it was a good burn. She loved the way the muscles in her legs stretched and flexed with every stride.

She cleared the trees and came into a clearing with a frozen pool.

Fyre stopped and bent over, resting her hands on her legs and taking in long, deep breaths. What the hell was wrong with her?

Even as she thought it, she knew the answer. It was obvious, even to her.

The Joining had changed things about her. It seemed to make everything ten times more intense. She slept like the dead, when she didn't have nightmares. When she was hungry, she felt like she could eat a whole deer. And there was only one other physical thing a human craved.

"This is ridiculous."

Fyre covered her face with her hands. Her body still burned. She couldn't shake the way he moved with her. The way his body moved within his skin, the strength in his big hands... she saw his hands against her skin, gently caressing her with small kisses on the nape of her neck.

Fyre hissed as he cold hand touched her neck.

To feel him move against her, move with her...

A sound made her eyes snap open. She grit her teeth. She had moaned.

"This is enough," she told herself. "You are a Grey Warden. You have to unite the land, stop a crazy Teyrn, avenge your family... you have no time for sex."

But the words didn't stop the fire in her blood.

Fyre sighed and leant down. Leaning over the frozen pool, she saw the ice was thin. With a quick tap, the ice shattered and black, freezing water was revealed. Taking a deep breath, Fyre plunged her hands into the water. She whimpered at the temperature before yanking her hands back.

Lifting up her hair, Fyre layered the back of her neck with the freezing water. It mingled against the heat and became something even worse than before.

"You split my lip."

Fyre jumped and turned. Alistair loomed by the tree line. He leant against the tree with his arms crossed. His hair was sticking up in some places and in the front it was slick with sweat. Fyre swallowed as she traced a droplet of sweat roll down the side of his head and down his neck.

"I'm sorry Alistair. I just... I'm just frustrated. We've been moving slowly because of the damn snow. These mountains are a nasty piece of work to navigate-"

"So you punched me in the face... because of the snow?"

Fyre gave an exasperated sigh and got to her feet. She raised her arms and dropped them again. She looked up at him and saw his stupid grin on his face. She studied him for a minute before she realised-

"You're enjoying this."

Alistair raised an eyebrow. "Me? The helpless victim who was assaulted? Never."

Fyre put a hand on her hip and leaned onto her left leg.

"Really? And, who was the one who kicked me first?"

"Who was the one who started stripping?"

"What can I say? I moved better underdressed."

_Ah, that got him._ A flicker of something fluttered over his face before it was replaced with his usual casual demeanour. She didn't know what was wrong with her. She didn't understand it, but the desire to touch him was becoming unbearable.

They had been playing this game for weeks. An unnecessary touch of a hand here and there. Sharing glances over the campfire. Flirtatious banter. She never really thought it would come to this. To standing face to face with electricity flickering between them so intensely that she wouldn't be surprised if they spontaneously combusted.

He chuckled under his breath.

"You've got quite a hard hit... for a woman. But you caught me off guard."

She smirked. "I did, huh?"

Alistair pushed himself off the tree and took slow, deliberate steps towards her.

"Yep. I say rematch."

"Really? Are you sure you want to be beaten again? By a woman?"

"Oh, Fyrelynne. We both know you're more than _just a woman_."

Fyre felt her stomach flutter. There was more to the templar. He was sweet and kind. But he was also confident around her. She had noticed he had started to be more adventurous, more open with his words. He didn't bumble as much as he used to.

She liked this Alistair.

"Fine. When and where?"

Alistair smiled a little sheepishly. She was expecting him to back down. He wasn't a coward, she just seemed to intimidate him sometimes. She was used to it. The only people who weren't intimidated by the Warrior Lady in Highever were Rory, Fergus and the guardsmen.

She watched as he reached down and grabbed the hem of his shirt. She was about to question him when his bare skin came into the daylight.

She hated herself for it, but Fyre found herself examining every inch of him. He threw his shirt to the ground and took a few steps away from her. With his back turned to her she saw how his muscles danced in the faint sunlight. _Oh, dear Maker..._

Fyre wasn't even sure Alistair knew how attractive he was.

He glanced over his shoulder and raised his eyebrows. Or maybe he did.

Fyre chuckled under her breath. _Fine, if he wants to play – I'm game._

She slowly reached for her own tunic. Pulling it up and over, a cold breeze danced over her bare stomach. All that held her boobs in place was a small breast band. Alistair turned to face her and he stopped dead.

Fyre waited for a cocky comment, but his eyes just drank her in. After another minute of those dark eyes sweeping over her, she felt the heat returning to her stomach. It fluttered as he rolled his arms. She bent down and put her arms up again. Alistair followed her movements.

She took one deep breath before she jumped him again.

This time, their movements were slower, with less force. She hit, he blocked. He swung, she ducked. It became a dance again, but this time there was something more sensual to it. As she spun to move away from him, she found herself leaning closer so she could rub her hip against him. Fyre spun and flung her arm backwards and Alistair caught it. She inhaled sharply as he ran his hands up her arm.

Her chest jerked outwards involuntarily as they carried on with their dance. They weren't really hitting each other now, no, they were looking for ways to make the other squirm.

Alistair brushed the back on her neck as he caught another blow from her.

Suddenly, they had stopped. She had her back leaned against his chest, and she could feel him, _all_ of him, against her. The heat was there, pumping so fast round her body that she could barely hear over her own heartbeat.

She let her head fall as he gently moved her hair aside. Without hesitation, Fyre felt the warmth of his soft lips touch the nape of her neck. She gasped, which turned into a moan as he wrapped himself around her. Resting his hands on her stomach, Fyre revelled in the heat of his bare skin against her. She felt his hands begin to move against her skin. The lower they moved, the slower they became. She felt a slight hitch in his breathing.

And then she remembered.

Fyre yanked herself away from him. He looked at her, confused and full of a lust he didn't understand.

"Fyre?"

"You've never done this, Alistair." Fyre wanted to kick herself at the hurt look in his eyes.

She huffed. "No, that not what I – Alistair."

He stopped where he was, mid turn.

"That's not what I meant."

"What? That I'm not good enough? Hm? Or that I'm too inexperienced?" He spat the words at her, as if he was repeating them.

Fyre shook her head. "No. And you know that's not what I meant."

"Then what did you mean, Fyre? Because so far, it seemed like you was actually enjoying my company."

"Alistair, I do enjoy your company-"

"But you'd prefer someone more experienced? Like Zevran?"

The words that left his mouth sliced her right to the bone. He seemed to regret what he had said, but before he could open his mouth, Fyre found herself raising her fist. She swung, and this time, she caught him square on the jaw.

Alistair was knocked down onto his knees.

"What I meant was that this would be your first time. Something which I believe to be special. Something treasured. Not some rolling twenty minutes in the dirt."

Before she could do any permanent damage to him, Fyre grabbed her shirt from the snow and marched towards the woods. Mumbling to herself, she started yanking her tunic up her arms when something grabbed her from behind.

His grip was strong and he lifted her from the ground like she was a feather. Fyre struggled against him and caught the back of her head with what she guessed was his face. He grunted and released her long enough for Fyre to work from his grasp.

She turned in his arms and lashed out, catching him under the chin. Alistair grabbed her shoulders and slammed her against a tree so hard that the boughs shook, covering them in snow.

Fyre fought against him again, but he only slammed her harder.

She looked up at him with a glare. But his eyes weren't filled with that anger and jealousy. They were filled with the same heat she felt spreading over her hips.

"Just twenty minutes, hm?"

Fyre felt his hands digging into her shoulders, and she wanted nothing more than to make him do it harder.

"Prove me wrong."

He lunged at her then, engulfing her with his overpowering scent. His kiss was rough, uncertain, and full of a passion she had lived without for months. It felt like decades with everything that she had gone through. What _they_ had gone through.

Alistair pulled away from her lips and let rough kisses line her jaw. When he got to her neck, Fyre yelped as he sunk his teeth into her. She was expecting it, and from the way his body went rigid, she guessed he wasn't either.

Before he stopped, Fyre grabbed for the lining of his greaves. He gasped as she let one finger slide under. She traced circled in the small curls that were there, and she melted to hear him moan.

He leant into her again, engulfing her. Fyre let him envelop her in frantic kisses and nibbles. She grabbed the back of his head and pulled him down to her, letting her tongue gently sighed over a tender earlobe. He moaned against her again.

"Fyre... I can't, I need to _feel _you."

His words were another wave of blistering heat. She grabbed at his greaves again, and this time, she pulled the tie and let them drop. His body jerked against her and his movements stopped again. Part of her hazy mind reminded her that he had never done this before, he was new...

The other part was wrapping its fingers around his shaft. Fyre felt him shudder as she gently lets her hand go up and down.

Before she could continue, Alistair grabbed her hands and slammed them above her head, pressing her against the rough bark of the tree. Holding her with one hand, he let the other slide down her neck and over her barely covered breast. With one swift move, the breast band was thrown behind them.

Alistair gently cupped her and ran a thumb over her tight nipple. Fyre groaned and raised her hips in pleasure.

"Alistair..." she breathed. She was almost begging him.

But he didn't look at her. Instead he engulfed her mouth once again with a sweet, seductive kiss. His tongue massaged hers and his hand continued travelling down, down, down...

Suddenly, his hands were under her trous, cupping her sec with cold fingers.

Fyre felt herself rocking her hips against him. "Touch me," she begged.

Using one finger, he let himself touch her core. He rubbed her slowly, feeling her, savouring her. He watched as she moaned and gasped. He took pleasure in the way she writhed under his command. The way one point of pressure made her bite her bottom lip.

Fyre looked up with her turquoise eyes glittering against the snow.

"Take me..."

Alistair moved his hand away from her centre and yanked at the small strings holding up her greaves. He marvelled at her centre and the small curls there that matched the wild colour of her hair. Fyre kicked her greaves off as Alistair released her arms. He raised her hips up and held her firm ass with both hands.

Fyre wrapped her arms around his neck as he led his shaft to her centre. The tip of him rested just on the inside of her core. Fyre whimpered for him to thrust. She needed to feel him, every glorious inch of him.

She pulled him so close to her body that she felt his wild heartbeat.

There was a gentle kiss on her neck before he plunged himself inside her. Fyre gasped in unison with Alistair at the sensation of being entwined.

Alistair slowly pulled back and pushed back in, so hard that Fyre was crushed against the tree. She cried out.

"Fyre?" He took her face in his hands, looking for some sign that he had hurt her.

Instead he saw the haze of passion over her eyes. She smiled at him then. A smile full of everything he had ever wanted to see on a woman's face. He smiled back and leant down, kissing her gently. His hips rolled with hers as they got into a smooth rhythm.

Fyre felt the release building inside her. She knew how close she was to that sweet sensation, but she didn't want the feeling to end. She wasn't to be with him here, forever. To forget their troubles, to forget their jobs and just become young lovers.

Alistair groaned against her neck as he wrapped his arms around her body. Fyre held him so close to her that he was all she could think, all she could sense.

His movements quickened with her short breaths. She moaned in his ear, urging him on, faster, harder.

"Oh, Fyre – I"

"Yes, yes..."

He pounded into her so hard that it was all she could do to stop from screaming. Her cries got so loud that Alistair chuckled and covered her mouth with his.

He thrust into her again and again until he brought her to the brink of her climax. He cried her name as she yelled his, and together they were brought into the throws of an oblivion neither wanted to leave.

Fyre couldn't wipe the smile from her face. She stopped and leaned against a tree. The camp wasn't far away, she could hear the chattering of her camp mates. Alistair had gone in before she had, but they probably heard her cried.

She giggled stupidly to herself.

Rubbing her face with her hands, Fyre stopped as she smelt his skin on them. She breathed him in.

Maker, he was amazing.

No matter how good Dairren had been, he had never done that to her. Sure, he had made her climax, but that... was something else. She wanted to touch him again. She wanted to taste him. She wanted to...

She sighed as the reality came to her. She wanted to be with him.

Letting that thought sober her, Fyre walked back into camp. Alistair had gone back with firewood, but she was empty handed. And cold. Making love in the snow probably wasn't the wisest thing to do.

Leliana looked up as she came into camp. They were already packed and ready to move.

The bard gave her a knowingly look, but Fyre tried to seem confused. Leliana rolled her eyes as Fyre walked over to her pack. She put on her breastplate and gauntlets before sheathing her sword. As she prepared the party to move, Fyre turned to see a pair of golden eyes watching her.

She smirked at the dark circle forming under his eye. Fyre shook her head and ordered them to move out.

_Well,_ she thought to herself. _At least it's not as bad at the scratches on his back. _


	2. Winter Complications

The next morning was the worst. She woke up from nightmare not long after she had dropped off, and lying awake all night had only given her a chance to think about what she had done. She had asked herself the same questions.

Why did she do it? Was it right? Did he enjoy it? Maker, she took his virginity... against a tree!

Fyre rubbed her face for the millionth time. They hadn't really spoken after their... adventure? Misadventure? Whatever it was, they hadn't spoken much afterwards. She had felt his eyes on her all night and she felt the same heat wash over her. Maker, this was difficult. Why did she get herself into these impossible situations? Why did she have to poke the bear?

But Andraste's blood, it had been amazing. _He _was amazing.

Part of her wanted to jump him again, and another part wanted to slap herself. She already had a bucket load of troubles, and adding sex into the equation just equalled disaster. Fyre sighed.

The first rays of dawn flickered across the flimsy material of her tent. She sat up and tried to move the lump of muscle that was snoring loudly on her feet. She poked him. The mabari's ear twitched, but he didn't open his eyes. Fyre poked him again and his eyes fluttered.

"I know you're not asleep."

Hunter opened one of his amber eyes before lifting his head and licking her face. His stumpy tail wagged furiously and Fyre giggled quietly.

"Silly thing. Come on, let's go start some breakfast."

Fyre climbed from her tent and marvelled at the world around her. It had snowed heavily last night and the world was a blanket of white. The only thing the snow didn't touch was their camp. There was a perfect circle around them that excluded anything white. The cold still hit her like a knife, but she didn't have to tread through a mountain of snow to get to the fire pit in the middle of their little camp. She reached into her tent as Hunter gingerly crawled out. She grabbed her blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders before walking to the fire pit.

The food pack was lying by the fire along with a few flints, a dozen half finished arrows and all sorts of bits and bobs. Fyre grabbed the annoying large cauldron that was still hanging on the spit and put it down with an _umph_.

She searched around until she found a full waterskin. She's be damned if she would go and find a water source. She emptied the water into the cauldron and grabbed the flint.

After countless tries and an exotic range of swear words, Fyre finally managed to light the dry moss under the logs. She fed the fire slowly until it was a beautifully warm blaze. Fyre hung the cauldron back on the spit and grabbed the food pack.

Pulling out various vegetables and wrapped meats, she finally found the small sack of oats. Worrying her bottom lip, Fyre tried to think of how much she needed. Nan had always told her that one cup of flour per two and a half people, or was it one cup of sugar per three cups of flour...?

She frowned.

Shrugging at Hunter's curious expression, Fyre opened the sack and shook its contents into the pot. She took the wooden spoon and mixed it before turning back to the sack. After a good ten minutes rummaging, she finally found a handful of raisins, a small jar of honey and half a sack of brown sugar. Fyre added all of the raisins and a healthy dose of sugar.

Finally, she stirred it once more and left it to come to the boil.

Standing up, she stretched her body and yawned. Her stretch started as just her arms, but became a whole bodily function as she pushed herself onto her toes. Her tunic rose up, revealing her navel and cracking her back.

As she relaxed, Fyre heard a distinctive intake of breath. Opening her eyes, she felt the heat rush to her cheeks. A wide-eyed, scruffy-haired Alistair was half emerged from his tent, staring at her. She smiled sheepishly before wrapping herself in the blanket and sitting back down by the fire.

She kept her eyes off him and on the porridge as she heard him trudge through the snow. Why was she acting like a hormonal teenager? She should face the problem, talk outright and ask his thoughts on it.

Fyre bit her lower lip. That's what she should do. But what she would actually do remained to be seen.

Her ears followed his footsteps as he came closer to the fire. She stirred the porridge again and frowned as it started to turn lumpy.

"Morning."

"Mnming."

Fyre mentally kicked herself. She was an idiot.

"Ur... porridge looks... lumpy."

Fyre nodded without looking up. She saw him standing there awkwardly, waiting for her to say something. Fyre wracked her brain, but all she came up with was. "It's snowed."

Alistair looked around as if emphasising the obvious. "Yes. Yes it has. Would explain all the white stuff, I guess."

_Oh Maker, he thinks I'm such an idiot. _

"Fyre? You OK?"

Fyre nodded a little too quickly.

"Fyre."

His tone told her she should look at him. She wanted to look at him. But could she control herself? Could she tell him that she wanted nothing more than to take him back to her tent? She knew she was hurting him. Maker, she would be hurt if he acted like she was acting. She just couldn't stop herself.

"Have I done something?"

Fyre shook her head. She jumped as something warm touched her cheek. It made her go rigid before she melted into the rough tips of his fingers. His body loomed over her as he knelt before her. She closed her eyes and let him trace her cheek before running his fingers through a few strands of her hair.

"What's the matter?" His voice was deep and calm, but she heard the worry behind it.

"I just..." her voice trailed off as she felt the heat of his skin.

He leant his head towards her. He smelt wonderful and he was no so close she could... she could...

"Alistair..."

He did exactly what she wanted to do, and exactly what she dreaded he would do. He brought her face to his and let their lips touch. It was so gentle that Fyre felt her heart jump. He let her make the next move, and she did. Fyre grabbed his shirt and pulled him closer to her.

He wrapped his arms around her as they embraced. Their kiss made her dizzy and Fyre forgot who, what and where she was. It was amazing on so many levels that she felt tears come to her eyes.

Alistair pulled away as he felt the cold tear touch his cheek.

His amber eyes were so full of concern that Fyre wanted to hug him. But she didn't. Instead, she let him move away from her. She wiped her cheeks and stood up. Without looking at him, Fyre found her voice.

"We can't do this, Alistair. I'm sorry."

Fyre half ran, half jogged away from him. She walked barefoot into the snow until she hid behind the tree line. From all the things she expected to wake up to - darkspawn, bandits, thieves, Morrigan - Fyre never expected tears. She never expected heartache.

Fyre stopped by the base of the tree. She put on arm on it to hold herself up as sobs wracked her body. It was stupid. It was childish. It was so damn unexpected that it almost tore her in half.

Out of all the things she had expected that morning, Fyre had never expected to fall in love.

The porridge had been awful. The snow had started just after she had got back to camp and it had only gotten worse. Everyone seemed to feel the misery in the atmosphere, and they all inherited a portion of it.

They packed camp and walked in silence. Fyre lead them and Alistair brought them up the rear. Usually he would be right next to her, but he hung back. She saw the sadness in his eyes and every time he looked at her, she wanted to cry.

Leliana had tried to talk to her, but she realised Fyre wasn't in a talking mood. Finally, she managed to get Zevran into some kind of conversation involving sex and tattoos.

As they moved slowly forward, the snow got heavier and it was harder and harder to see. They were close to Haven. The task of finding Andraste's Ashes was a mammoth quest in itself, but the winter wasn't making it easy.

By mid-afternoon, they were hardly moving at all. All their energy was spent fighting the wind and snow. Fyre was so cold she could swear that her eyelashes were frozen. Finally, she was going to accept defeat and tell the group to find somewhere to camp down. That was when Wynne approached her.

"There is a small village a few miles in this direction. It's merely a speck on the map, but it will be enough to keep us warm while the storm passes."

Fyre nodded. Wynne always seemed to know things, and sometimes it made Fyre weary. At that moment, however, Fyre would just be glad to sit down.

Wynne spread the word through the group and they moved with renewed vigour. It took them a few hours to reach the village, and they almost walked right through it. The entire place was covered with snow and it simply melted into the background.

The group circled the town until they came to the biggest building. A faded sign hung dangerously above the door and Fyre made out something like The Brown Boar.

She pushed the door open. A blast of heat and alcohol hit her so hard that her eyes instantly started to water. A few men looked up from their mugs as the group entered. They were eyed wearily and the chatter seemed to die down. Fyre was too cold for scrutiny.

She marched straight over to the bar. A man had his back to her and Fyre gently cleared her throat. The barman ignored her. Fyre looked back as Alistair walked into the inn and closed the door. The wind still whirled in her ears and the snow in her hair was starting to melt.

Fyre cleared her throat again. The barman continued wiping the counter without turning around.

"Hey!"

Her mood had turned incredibly sour and she didn't have the time to play 'stranger'.

Finally, the barman stopped. He put the cloth down and turned. Fyre felt her throat go dry.

Looking down at her was a man no older than thirty. He had soft black hair and a thin line of stubble across his cheeks. Everything about him was big. His muscles, his dark eyes. She suddenly felt sheepish.

"Can I help you?"

His face was stony as he looked of Fyre and her dishevelled group.

"We'd like some rooms for the night, a hot dinner and a hot breakfast."

He chuckled humourlessly. "Are you sure you can afford that, love?"

"Pretty sure." His tone instantly annoyed her and her hand itched to touch her sword.

He sucked his teeth as he considered them.

"Not going to cause any trouble, are ya?"

"We just want somewhere to sleep and get out of the storm. How much?"

She saw the wheels literally turning in his head as he worked out how much he could get from the strangers. Fyre knew that he knew they needed somewhere to stay. They were tired and hungry. Fyre didn't think she had the energy to haggle.

"We don't have many rooms. Some of you will have to double up."

"Yes, yes, that's fine. How much?"

"For all of ya, and two hot meals? ... hundred and ten silvers."

Fyre reached into her armour and pulled out her fairly heavy purse. She saw the disappointment on his face as he realized how much he just lost. He opened his mouth to try and say more, but Fyre sent him a look at that cut him short.

She pulled out one gold coin and ten silver ones. Then she put her hand on her hip expectantly.

The man muttered to himself as he gestured them to follow him. They walked through a door and into a twisted hallway. The man touched doors as he walked, sliding a small latched on it from green to red. Fyre gestured for everyone to pick a room as the man came to a halt.

"This is a double room. Two of you will have to bunk up." He hinted at a smile.

Fyre shook her head in good humour as he walked past her. She turned to face everyone before they disappeared into their rooms.

"Everyone try and find a bed. If two of you don't mind bunking up, you can have this room."

She pointed to the double room behind her. Fyre kept her eyes away from Alistair. A figure moved forward. Fyre raised an eyebrow.

"I do not mind sharing your bed, my dear Warden."

Despite herself, she smiled at the elf. "No thank you, Zev."

He shrugged.

"Suit yourself."

After ten minutes of haggling, everyone had their designated rooms. Sten, Morrigan and Wynne had the three single rooms. Alistair and Zevran were sharing the twin room, which Fyre couldn't help but smile at, and Leliana was bunking with Fyre in the double bed.

They separated into their rooms. Fyre dumped her pack on the bed as Leliana walked in with Hunter. There was a small hearth which Fyre stoked, filling the room with a warm glow. Leliana sighed as she jumped on the bed.

"I miss beds."

Fyre chuckled. "Me too. It'll be nice to sleep on anything that isn't the floor."

They changed out of their armour and into their normal clothes. Fyre found the comb and tried to drag it through her knotted hair. Leliana talked as she got changed, but Fyre wasn't really listening. All she could see were Alistair's puppy eyes. She was a bitch. Why did she do that? She knew how vulnerable she felt on her first time. If Dairren had just gotten up and left, or worse - ignored her - she would probably be a gooey mess.

"And then we - Fyre?"

Fyre turned and looked at the bard. She looked down at the floor and Leliana rushed over to her. She put one arm over Fyre's shoulder and the other on her arm.

"What's wrong?"

"Leliana, I'm such a horrible person. This is so stupid! I should be so much stronger than this! This shouldn't even be happening..."

"What's happening? Fyre, what happened?"

Looking into Leliana's sweet grey eyes, Fyre found herself reliving what had happened.

"I don't know what happened, but after our spar I just needed to get away from him. I was too hot. He was too... too much. So I ran found this little clearing. I just stopped to catch my breath and calm myself down. And he had followed me. He asked for a rematch. So... we fought, but we weren't really fighting. I realized what we were doing and stopped. He asked why and I said, well, because he had never done anything like that before. He got really angry then. He thought that I meant he wasn't experience enough for me. I, uh... punched him." Leliana scoffed. "I know. Then he just... changed. He grabbed me and pinned me against this tree and, well, you can guess the rest."

Leliana was silent for a few minutes as she processed the information.

"That was why you were both smiling like fools all night, then."

Fyre smirked but it soon faded.

"Leliana, I think I made a mistake. I don't know what I was thinking... there's so much at stake. I can't..."

"Stop." Fyre raised her eyebrows at the bard. "Fyre, you cannot think like this. Yes, you did not expect this to happen, but the best things are never planned. What we're doing, what we're fighting... we could die tomorrow - today! Lust, love - whatever you have with him - that has happened for reasons only the Maker knows. You need to jump and embrace life while life is still worth living."

Fyre looked down. "Leliana, I... I've already ended it."

Leliana gave her a sad smile.

"Fyre, I'm sure he is thinking the same. You'd be surprised how strong he can really be. Take a chance on him. You'll be surprised how things turn out."

Leliana got to her feet and left Fyre alone with her thoughts. Hunter came and sat on her feet. He rubbed his head against her lovingly, and Fyre was grateful for his love. She knew what Leliana had said made sense. Hell, she was right. But did she have the courage to jump?

"They're serving food."

Fyre looked up in time to see Alistair walking away from the doorframe.

"Alistair!"

Fyre jumped to her feet, nearly tripping over her mabari. Buy the time she got into the hall, it was empty. She sighed. Walking down slowly, Fyre entered the main room. There were more people now, even some women and children. They all seemed happy. Expectant.

Zevran was sat on a table with two young women. Fyre shook her head and looked for another table. Leliana was talking with Wynne as Sten sat quietly nursing a mug of something. She made her way over to them and sat down. They left her alone to her thoughts.

The barman brought over a few bowls of steaming food. There were roasted potatoes with what looked like mince in gravy. Fyre picked at her food and listened vaguely to people's conversations. Zevran joined them after a while, and even Morrigan made an appearance. She soon left after every man within a hundred paces stared at her chest.

As Fyre got up to excuse herself, she smacked straight into the barman. He smiled.

"You OK? Sorry about before, can be too careful, you know? You seem like a reasonable lot."

Fyre nodded and moved to get around him.

"Why don't you stay? A small band is starting soon. It's our Winter Solstice festival, which is usually held outside, but it's in here because of the storm. It'll be crowded, but you'll enjoy it."

"Thanks, but I really-"

"Aw, come on. First drink free to excuse my less than hospitable behaviour?"

Fyre sighed heavily. "OK. I want a good drink though, not this swill you've been serving us."

He chuckled.

"Yes, ma'am. Names Jon by the way."

Fyre took his open hand and shook it. "Fyre."

He laughed openly until he realised she was being serious. Fyre smiled as he coughed awkwardly and headed towards the bar. She followed him and took a stool at the bar.

"Here you go. Dusten's finest ale."

Fyre accepted the drink. She took a sip and nodded her head.

"Not bad, not bad. So, Dusten? That the name of this little place?"

"Yep. We're just a stop for travellers. Nothing big."

"I take it you don't get many travellers?"

He scoffed. "Not since the war, or whatever's happening. You hear about that?"

Fyre suppressed a shudder. "Yeah."

"Know about anything happening in Denerim?"

Fyre shook her head, uncomfortable with the subject.

"No. We just fled from the darkspawn and picked up stragglers along the way."

He looked over at her group with a curious eye. She knew he probably didn't believe her, but she didn't give the chance to ask any more questions about it.

"So, Jon. Do you run this place by yourself?"

"Yep, just me. It's been in my family for generations. My great great granddad built it in..."

As the night went on, and the band started up, Fyre began feeling a lot better. It could have been the good music and fine company... or the fifth ale. She reached down and grabbed the tankard. Sixth.

She had spotted Alistair a few times, but he was keeping away from her., from the pink tint in his cheeks, she guessed he had probably drank the same as her. Maybe more. Fyre downed the drink as quick as she could. She wanted to go bed. The room was starting to spin.

A small patch of the floor had been cleared so that people could dance. Jon had been right. The inn was so crowded that it was fit to burst. She stumbled towards the door when someone grabbed her hand. She was twirled into the fray of sweaty, smelly people prancing around like drunken goats. The band played an upbeat song and everyone cheered and stomped their feet.

Fyre giggle stupidly as the man she danced with tried to speak. He led her closer to the dance floor but she shook her head, trying to pull away.

As she moved through the throng of people, something grabbed her hand. Ready to shout at the unsuspecting peasant, Fyre found herself stumped. His amber eyes sparkled as he grinned wickedly. His strong hands took her hips and pulled them against his own.

Fyre gasped, unsure on what to do. He started to move them to and fro, never letting his eyes leave hers. She was mesmerized by the way that he moved his body. Fyre found herself moving along, letting his body lead hers. It wasn't until he whispered sweet nothings into her ears that the spell was broken.

"I'm sorry, Zevran. I can't."

She tried to pull away, but the elf was too quick. Before she could blink, Zevran had bent her body onto his arm and had his soft lips on hers. She was too stunned to move at first. The inn went up in cheers.

Zevran lifted her up and bowed to the crowd. Fyre frowned, too confused and drunk to realise what was happening. She vaguely saw Leliana watching her. She was trying to say something but the haze was numbing her senses.

The bard pointed behind Fyre. Turning quickly, she saw a figure leaving the inn. The door shut as Fyre grasped who it was.

"Alistair."

Ripping her body away from Zevran's, Fyre shoved through the crowd until she got to the door. Wrenching it open, Fyre looked out into the darkness that was marred by the sleeting snow.

"Alistair!"

Fyre stepped outside into the freezing wind that battered her body. Her hair flew around her wildly, whipping her face. She walked further into the darkness, stumbling slightly. She shook her head, willing the drunken haze to go away.

"Alistair?"

Her voice was strained as her eyes fought against the snow. She walked further out into the darkness, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. But there was nothing.

"Alistair... please."

Fyre felt the tears coming and she sunk into the snow. Her feet were numb, her body was numb. She didn't deserve him. She had ruined everything.

"I thought you were different!"

She jumped and looked up. Alistair stood before her. He had his hands at his sides and she saw they were clenched into fists. Fyre felt her body shake.

"I thought you were good and kind!"

The anger in his voice was understandable, but the alcohol fuelled her, and Fyre got to her feet angrily.

"Hey! I was the one who said we shouldn't! You kept pushing and pushing!"

"I didn't start this! And you never tried to push me away!"

Fyre pointed her finger at him.

"Don't lie!" she screamed. "I punched you in the face!"

Alistair stopped. She was shaking from the rage.

"Then I guess I'm just the stupid one, right? Because you didn't want it at all?"

Fyre felt her eyes well again. "Of course I did!"

Alistair raised his arms. His voice broke as he shouted. "Then why? What's the problem? You've ignored me, turned me away! Then you go and jump on the back of the next bloke you find!"

Fyre screamed and charged him. She raised her fist in an attempt to let all her anger out on him. She wanted to hit him, and kiss him. She was so afraid and so tired being afraid. The last man she loved was killed in front of her. They were pretty much on a suicide mission and if he died... what would she do then?

Alistair caught her and grabbed her arm before she could hit him. Her body twisted and she ended up crashing straight into him. She struggled and kicked but he held her tight. Finally she got out of his grasp. His face was set in stone, and the tears on her face were starting to freeze.

Fyre called on all of her pent up rage. "I'm scared, OK? I'm so bloody terrified! What happens if you die, huh? What happens then? Why should I have to live with your death on my hands? Why should I care!"

Fyre raised her hands and brought them down. Alistair didn't block them, he just let her hit him in the chest. She hit him until she couldn't bare it anymore. Her whole body collapsed against him as she was wracked with sobs.

"Why should I love you if you're just going to die?"

Alistair wrapped his arms around her. He was rigid, as if trying to understand what she had just said. Finally, he put his hand under her chin and made her look at him.

"I'm not going to die. I promise."

Fyre blinked and another tear rolled down her cheek. "Don't make promises you can't keep."

Alistair grabbed her whole body and lifted her up so easily that she gasped in shock. She had no choice but to look at him as he crushed her against him.

"I don't."

Alistair lowered her enough so she could kiss him. He smelt like ale, and something sweet. He tasted even better. As her body melted into his, she knew she was lost. There was no way she could let him go now, and she was done fighting. Archdemon be damned. Fyre would let herself have one, small luxury in her life. One small pleasure.

Needless to say that Leliana didn't share her bed that night.


End file.
